


what burns inside you

by exyking



Series: Creatures and Cryptids [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Auguste is alive, Blowjobs, Enthusiastic Consent, Frottage, Incubus!Damen, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, and because Damen is a sex demon, au with similar period setting, because Laurent is drunk, he excretes pheromones, it's very enthusiastic though, no abuse in this au, not a virgin!Laurent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: As he lay in bed, enjoying the last lingering effects of a seldom felt intoxication, Laurent’s mind set to wandering.It drifted to the same thoughts he’d been pondering for a while now, all concerning a singular phenomenon he didn’t quite know how to explain.Namely, the purple man with wings who appeared in his bedroom every night.





	what burns inside you

**Author's Note:**

> no beta we die like men
> 
>  
> 
> The incubus!Damen fic, as promised. I'm actually gonna do another chapter, as I didn't get nearly as freaky as I wanted to.

Laurent had always despised feasts.

He detested being in the company of the intoxicated, loathed the way it emboldened men to approach him and make their clumsy advances on his person. He abhorred his social duties, hated being forced to mingle with his father’s guests for hours on end while he sipped at water and fended off the servant’s attempts to give him wine. He found the rabble and their conversation to be insufferable, and didn’t hesitate to tell them so, much to his father’s chagrin.

Auguste made it bearable. He usually allowed Laurent to tag along by his side while he went about mingling and schmoozing with the nobility, a task he’d never much seemed to mind. Laurent almost envied his ability to talk about the most mundane things and still appear as though he was divulging every ounce of his attention and interest. He was a diplomat through and through.

He’d make a good king one day. Laurent had always been sure of that.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, was Laurent’s twentieth birthday.

Laurent didn’t think it should be any different to the other nineteen birthdays he’d had to endure, but Auguste simply did not agree. He wanted to celebrate the affair, he wanted Laurent to participate, and enjoy himself. He bothered him incessantly in the weeks preceding the event, implored him with wide, earnest eyes and bribed him with promises of a days spent riding.

Laurent could never deny his brother anything.

His resolve lasted all of an hour into the festivities, before Laurent crumbled under the full brunt of his brothers shameless determination, and took his first glass of wine. One glass quickly turned into another, as it seemed Auguste’s personal mission to ensure Laurent cup never ran dry, and it wasn’t very long at all before Laurent was very,  _ very  _ drunk.

Auguste delighted in dragging him around the banquet hall, ensuring that he talked to anyone and everyone, gossiping in his ear like a tavern wench all the while. To Laurent’s horror, he even managed to find a handsome foreign nobleman for him to dance with, though the man stepped on Laurent’s toes several times, because even while drunk Laurent was still a better dancer than anyone in the room. It might also have something to do with the way the man seemed far more interested in Laurent himself than what he was doing with his feet.

Laurent escaped his company in a timely fashion.

It was fair to say the evening quickly spun out of Laurent’s control, and he could simply only cling to Auguste and hope that his brother would stop him from doing something irreparably damaging to his hard-won reputation.

By the time he’d finally managed to slip out of his brother’s claws, it was well into the night. Auguste’s eye had been captured by the pretty daughter of a nobleman from the east, and Laurent did not hesitate to manoeuvre them together. Neither did he hide his snigger as the girl took Auguste’s hand and led him away to a more private place. He even saluted his brother when Auguste turned to give him an excited grin.

Finally free, Laurent made his way back to his chambers to find some much-needed peace. He wasn’t tired, but the worst effects of the drink had blessedly worn off, and he had no desire to remain in the company of the few men and women who remained in the hall.

He climbed the stairs to his tower bedroom in silence, and nodded to the guards stationed outside, before slipping into his rooms.

The windows were closed, but the light of the full moon still streamed in through the glass panes, giving enough light to see by. Laurent kicked off his books and unlaced his jacket in the gloom, not bothering to light any candles just to undress.

Now only in his trousers and undershirt, Laurent threw himself onto his bed and luxuriated in the soft sheets, enjoying the way they felt against his skin. That was likely the alcohol’s doing.

Laurent had been surprised at how pleasant drinking had been. He’d thought that being intoxicated in the midst of such a large and rambunctious crowd would be uncomfortable, and that he’d be too on edge the whole evening, but Auguste’s company had distracted him from those fears, and his unshakeable trust in his brother had kept paranoia at bay. He thought perhaps he wouldn’t mind making an irregular habit of it, within reason of course. There was no reason he couldn’t enjoy himself a little if he was to be forced to attend these awful events, not if Auguste was close by.

As he lay in bed, enjoying the last lingering effects of a seldom felt intoxication, Laurent’s mind set to wandering. It drifted to the same thoughts he’d been pondering for a while now, all concerning a singular phenomenon he didn’t quite know how to explain.

Namely, the purple man with wings who appeared in his bedroom every night.

It was a recurring dream, one that always played out the exact same way: the window would slowly open, and a man with wings so large they might have extended to twice the length of his body had he stretched them out would climb onto his windowsill and linger for there for a long moment, before clambering gracefully down and standing over Laurent’s bed to watch him while he slept. In these dreams, Laurent was always awake, but was paralyzed so that he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t show any indication he was aware of the man’s presence.

The first time it had happened, Laurent had been afraid. Laurent’s family had many enemies, it wasn’t so unfathomable to believe one of them might have sent a skilled assassin to scale Laurent’s tower and murder him in his sleep.

He had tried to call for help, tried to draw the blade from under his pillow to defend himself, but to no avail. Amidst the ensuing struggle to wrest control over his paralyzed limbs, he’d realized he was dreaming.

Instead of startling himself awake as the realization should have, Laurent instead became intensely aware of every aspect of the dream. It felt real, every part of it, was so detailed and so tangible that when Laurent awoke in the morning he had a hard time rationalizing that it had only been a dream after all.

He remembered what the ‘man’ looked like with startling clarity; he was tall, well above six feet, his skin had a light, mottled purple-red hue, and his hair was black and framed his head like a crown of curls. His eyes were an odd golden brown that glowed when caught in the moonlight, and cast an ethereal edge to the rest of his well balanced, exceptionally handsome face. His body was ridiculous; no man should ever be able to be so incredibly, densely muscled. He was built like an ox, not a shred of fat was on him. It was obscene, made more so by the fact that he wore nothing but a flimsy loincloth.

Laurent certainly didn’t linger on this fact while he watched the man. It certainly did not make him feel a strange stirring heat low in his gut.

The man’s ‘visits’ had happened every night for almost two weeks now, without fail, and Laurent was no closer to having an answer for the strange, inexplicable dream than he was the first night he’d had it.

He had done his research, because Laurent hadn’t a shred of an clue what the man was, as he certainly wasn’t human. He had sought answers in the depths of the ancient lore books in his father’s great library, and though it had taken him some time to find, he had eventually stumbled across something that came close to matching the description of the man who came to him every night. But this answer only left him with more questions.

Namely, why was a sex demon visiting him in his sleep?

Laurent didn’t believe the nonsense to begin with, but, even had he entertained the idea, it didn’t make a lick of sense. ‘The incubus,’ as the book explained, ‘invades the dreams of it’s young, virginal victims, and feeds from their sexual energy and pleasure to their ultimate demise.’

It was a load of rubbish, as most fantastical mythology was. Even if there was an actual, real incubus visiting him in his sleep, Laurent wasn’t a ‘virgin’, so it defied the logic of the lore to begin with. And honestly, Laurent had precious little ‘sexual energy’ to speak of, so either the ‘incubus’ was an idiot, or, more realistically, it was all bullshit.

But the ‘demon’s’ visits hadn’t stopped.

As Laurent lay there now, reclining on his sheets, pondering questions he had no answers to with a mind too befuddled to make any productive progress on the matter, he didn’t notice the latch on the window starting to move. Nor did he notice when the wooden frames were slowly but surely pulled outwards, hinges too well oiled to creak.

Laurent only realised that his window was open at all when a rather large shadow fell across his bed.

His breath caught, heart thundering in his chest, as he looked up and saw a man crouching on his window sill.

Laurent didn’t remember falling asleep.

He moved as subtly as he could and pinched himself, in the hopes that the sharp pain would jerk him out of the dream he hadn’t realised he had fallen into. But nothing happened. Laurent felt nothing but the very real pain of the pinch.

He wasn’t asleep.

Laurent’s instincts were screaming at him to call to his guards for help, to reach for the blade under his pillow and get to his feet, ready to defend himself, but he couldn’t move. It felt as though some invisible force had seized his limbs, paralyzing him. He couldn’t only sit and watch as the creature slipped quietly into the room and started to make its way over to Laurent’s bed.

When it’s gleaming, golden eyes met Laurent’s in the dark, it stopped.

The demon was still for a long moment, just watching him in silence. The way it’s eyes caught and reflected the moonlight was hypnotising. Laurent had never seen a more golden colour, it would have been beautiful if it wasn’t so dangerous.

“Are you here to kill me?” Laurent’s voice almost startled himself, it was so loud in the dark, quiet room.

“No.”

By contrast, the demon’s voice was softer than Laurent had thought it would be. It was deep, a throaty rumble that filled every corner of the room, and beneath the tone a raspy, inhuman echo that made Laurent shiver. But, it spoke only softly, as though it didn’t wish to disturb the quiet.

“What do you want?”

The creature cocked its head, eyebrow quirked and lips twitching into an amused smile. “Surely that is obvious,” it said, it’s rumbling voice tainted with laughter.

Laurent couldn’t hide the blush that snuck its way onto his cheeks. Though he had long since mastered the ability to maintain an apathetic expression even in the most confronting of situations, not even he could control the reflexive reaction his body had to that hauntingly beautiful voice, and the weighty suggestion it carried.

When Laurent gave him no reply, creature looked away, eyes finally breaking contact. In a rush, breath returned to Laurent’s lungs, and the spell that had held him so motionless seemed to break.

Laurent thought that perhaps he should be afraid. There was a sex demon standing in his bedroom after all, looking at him with glowing eyes that burned with an interest Laurent was painfully aware of.

Somehow, thought, despite the pounding of his heart, Laurent wasn’t scared.

“I thought you said you were not here to kill me.”

The creature looked at him again, though this time Laurent felt no loss of control under its gaze. It frowned. “You think it is one in the same?”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

That went against everything his book had told him. Incubus fucked their prey to death, it had said, they consumed the life energy of their victims in return for replenishment of their own, and left them nothing but a hollow husk.

“I saw you in my dreams,” Laurent said. “You watched me sleep every night. Was that real?”

The creature hesitated for a long moment. “Close enough,” it said.

“That is infuriatingly cryptic.”

The creature smirked at him.

“Why didn’t you do it then? I would have been incapable of stopping you.”

“I do not take from the unwilling,” the creature said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Laurent’s head was spinning. None of this felt real, none of it made sense.

Then, the demon turned away and started to walk back over to the window.

Laurent watched it go with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected it to leave, he’d expected it to push him down onto his bed, rip off his clothes, and fuck him senseless. Certainly, the inexplicable hardness in his pants had thought so.

The demon climbed onto the sill and one of its hands gripped the window frame. Laurent noticed it’s black fingernails, long and sharpened to a dangerous point. Laurent didn’t doubt that that nail could slice him open from throat to groin if this creature so desired.

Which was why it made no sense when Laurent said: “You’re just going to leave?”

Why could he never stop his dangerous mouth?

The demon went still. “I do not stay where I am not wanted.”

“What makes you think you are not wanted?”

Laurent thought that if he was in his right mind, and not so intensely and keenly aware of the half naked demon in his bedroom, a fact that his biology was responding to more so than his intelligent brain, he might had slapped himself for the overwhelming stupidity that was him all but  _ inviting  _ the creature to stay. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had possessed him to say such a thing.

He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he  _ meant it. _

The creature turned to look at him, suspicion spelled out on its handsome features. “You are not afraid of me,” it said.

“No,” Laurent agreed. “Inexplicably, I am not.”

The creature cocked its head again. Its golden gaze roamed over Laurent from head to toe. Then, it pushed itself off the window sill and strode across the room. Laurent did not deliberately watch the way it’s muscles rippled pleasingly with every step, thick thighs bulging, as it came toward him.

The creature noticed him looking, if the smirk on it’s lips was any indication.

It came to the end of his bed, then stopped, looking down on him with a passive gaze. Laurent pushed himself up to sitting, feeling too vulnerable lying stretched out with the demon standing over him.

“You are full of contradictions,” it said.

Laurent ignored this. “Is this your doing?”

The creature raised its eyebrow in question. Laurent gritted his teeth in frustration that it might make him voice his dilemma.

“This… desire. Is it your doing?”

The creature’s eyes dropped pointedly to Laurent’s pants, and the obvious hardness there, licking his lips like a cat presented with cream. “You think I need to use a thrall to invoke desire in you? I have never, nor will I ever resort to such barbaric methods.”

“I don’t believe you,” Laurent said. “It is unnatural.”

Again, that smirk, widening now, and a sparkle in the demon’s eye. It took a slow step forward, coming around the bed now. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” it purred. “A twenty-year-old virgin, visited in the night by a handsome demon? People have wanted worse for less.”

Laurent’s jaw clenched. The closer the demon came, the more aware he was of it. He felt it like a physical thing, his fingers twitching to touch, and the stirring in his groin grew hot and persistent. He was almost choking on the heart in his throat.

“I am no virgin,” Laurent said.

The creature stopped, and for a long moment it was silent. Then it smiled. “You are not,” it said. “Though you have been ill informed of my species if you think that is a necessary prerequisite.”

Laurent was starting to believe that might be the case.

All he knew of this creature came from an incredibly dated and poorly written book, which possessed little in the way of factual evidence. He supposed it would not be too outrageous to believe the demon might be telling the truth.

“You have no need to be afraid of me,” the demon said, and took the final step to close the distance between them. “I will not hurt you.” A taloned finger reached up, and the tip of a deadly nail was caressing his cheek

Laurent shivered again. His fists clenched. “Easy to say,” he gritted out.

The creature bent a little closer, crouching down and bringing its face nearer to Laurent’s. It whispered, “I gain nothing from your suffering nor death. I desire only your pleasure. Allow me to give you this.”

“And in return?”

“The indulgence of your company is all I require.”

“And you have no intention to kill me prior to your escape? It’s a wonder the world does not know of your existence, clumsily leaving witnesses lying around like that.”

“If I wanted to kill you,  _ Laurent _ , you’d already be dead.”

Laurent blinked.

The demon smirked. “Does it surprise you that I know your name?” it asked. “You are a prince of this realm.”

“Is that why you are here? The novelty of fucking royalty? Want to get a taste of what the common folk only dream of?”

“You could be the son of a beggar, it would make no difference to me.” The creature’s finger trailed down to his chin, then down further over the vulnerable line of his throat, resting in the hollow. Laurent gasped, the touch unbelievably intimate. “It is your exquisite beauty that attracted my attention,” the demon went on. “You should know how lovely you are.”

“I believe this puts me at a disadvantage,” Laurent said, interrupting the inevitable course of the conversation. “Do demons have names?”

“Of course,” the demon said. “I am known as Damen.”

Laurent couldn’t help his amused snort. “Imaginative,” he said.

Damen seemed to take Laurent’s amusement as its own. “It serves.”

That was when Laurent ran out of things to say. Witty quips and his particular brand of dangerous curiosity alike had abandoned him, and he was left utterly speechless with the creature’s finger resting on the sensitive hollow of his neck, and it’s face now so close that Laurent could see the curious patterns decorating its mottled skin. It was a beautiful creature, a breath-taking specimen, it’s flesh was like a canvas of art and it was more muscular and imposing than even an Akielon Gladiator. Laurent would have been blind not to desire him.

The creature promised him no harm, and Laurent, despite all logic, was beginning to believe him. It could be a thrall, even if the creature had insisted it was not. It could be some kind of magic addling his brain, making him believe the demon was safe and true. It could have been any number of things, and yet Laurent did not believe it so. There was something about the creature that just seemed... Trustworthy. Honest.

Laurent knew what this ‘Damen’ wanted, he had confessed as much, he had not hesitated to, and despite every shred of rational sense within him, Laurent found himself inclined to give it to him.

In exchange for something he couldn’t deny he wanted.

“You know I want you,” the creature said. “And I think you want me too.” It flattened its palm against Laurent’s chest, over his furiously pounding heart. “Say it, and I’m yours.”

Laurent gritted his teeth in indecision. His cock ached, his stomach fluttered, his mind lingered in tumultuous thought of caution, of right and wrong. What would happen if he was mistaken about Damen? What would happen if Damen wanted more than just his pleasure? Could he truly give himself willingly to a  _ demon? _

“Say it,” Damen prompted again. “Laurent.” His gentle whisper was so soft and delicate that Laurent’s eyes couldn’t help but drop down to his soft, plump lips. He wondered what the beast would taste like.

In the end, maybe it was a lack of experience, or maybe Damen had lied after all and it was indeed using a thrall to seduce him, or, even more outrageously, maybe Laurent just wanted it that much.

Whatever the cause, his answer was the same.

“Yes,” he breathed.

When the creature began to move slowly, slowly forward, Laurent surprised himself by meeting him in the middle.

Damen’s lips were even softer than they had looked. They were supple and full against Laurent’s own, and moved only delicately, carefully, at first, just pressing against Laurent’s before parting the slightest amount. Laurent startled when he felt Damen’s tongue swipe forward against his lower lip. He couldn’t help but part his own lips further, and his eyes fluttered closed when the demon’s lips parted farther too.

The taste of him was like nothing Laurent could have imagined.

He tasted like sweet spices, like the candied apples Auguste used to buy him from the markets. The scent of him was overwhelming, a delicious blend of fresh oranges and cinnamon, filling Laurent’s senses with their close contact. Laurent, who had always enjoyed sweets, couldn’t contain the moan that spilled from him as he shamelessly pushed his tongue into the demon’s mouth to get at his taste. He felt the way the demon’s lips curled into a smile against his, before his other hand was cradling Laurent’s head and that hand that had rested against his chest curled around his waist. He pressed closer, flush against Laurent’s body.

Laurent didn’t know what to do with his hands, they rested so awkwardly at his sides, but his fingertips itched to run through those raven dark locks and so he couldn’t deny himself. His arm wound around Damen’s shoulders and his fingers splayed through his hair, scratching teasing lines against the creature’s scalp. Either he was incredibly sensitive there, or Laurent’s touch just felt that good, as Damen made a delicious noise into Laurent’s mouth.

Damen’s arms tightened then, and he moved upwards from his crouch. That was all the warning Laurent got before he was suddenly being pulled up and then back, dragged along the bed till he could lie out prone and the demon could clamber nimbly on top of him. Laurent marvelled at his strength, at the ease with which he was manhandled, like Laurent weighed nothing. The hot flood of arousal that went straight to his groin was heady.

It held most of its own weight on it’s knees, as it likely would have crushed Laurent otherwise. From this vantage, Laurent was treated to a very intimate acquaintance with exactly what that loin cloth was concealing.

“Like being on top?” Laurent managed to gasp out when their lips broke contact. He found himself chasing after the demon’s kiss again, and scowled when it chuckled and evaded him.

“Yes,” it said.

Damen’s attention turned downwards then, to the half-done laces of Laurent’s undershirt. It looked back up to him and quirked an eyebrow, requesting permission. Laurent gave it with a nod, and the demon started to untie the laces with the tip of his claw. When it was sufficiently loose, Laurent helpfully raised his arms and the demon slipped the shirt over its head.

Bare chested, Laurent turned his face away. The demon turned it back.

“Exquisite,” Damen told him. His hand trailed down his pale torso, tracing the faint lines of muscle Laurent had won through hard hours of swordplay and training. Laurent shivered as he stroked through the faint, blond hairs of his happy trail, and his stomach muscles quivered. He had always had incredibly sensitive skin, and Damen’s touch felt like fire.

Damen ducked his head, and Laurent jerked in surprise when it’s lips wrapped around the nub of his nipple. He was sensitive there too, something Damen discovered with apparent delight. He teased at the hard bud with teeth and tongue, learning quickly that Laurent liked the faint sting of a hard nip, only to be soothed with the warm, wet flat of Damen’s talented tongue. He turned his attention to the other, and Laurent couldn’t help the way his hands curled into fists.

Damen kissed a trail down his chest when he was satisfied with the redness of Laurent’s nipples, traced the tip of his tongue down the groove between his abdomen and even dipped it into his navel. His large hands framed Laurent’s smaller waist, keeping him still as Laurent couldn’t help but writhe with sensitivity.

“I did not realise demons were so adamant on foreplay,” Laurent grit out, when Damen’s tongue reached the waistband of his trousers, so close to where Laurent was aching for him, only to start its journey back up.

“The hard-won fruit is the most delicious,” Damen quipped with a smile.

Laurent glared down at him, pushing himself up onto his elbows for a better vantage, only for his head to fall back when one of the hands holding his hips pressed firmly to the aching bulge in his pants.

“So hard for me,” Damen mused quietly, between kisses pressed to Laurent’s stomach. His hand gave a gentle squeeze, and Laurent’s back arched in pleasure. Damen shivered a little, and Laurent opened his eyes to look at him.

Damen’s eyes were closed, lips parted against Laurent’s skin, and his expression was one of unconcealed ecstasy. Laurent wondered, not for the first time, exactly how incubus actually fed on their victims. Whether it was the physical embrace that they sought or something else entirely.

“I feel your desire as my own,” Damen said, answering a question Laurent hadn’t asked. “I feel your arousal, your pleasure, the hidden things you cannot voice. Your deepest fantasies, most stifled cravings. Everything you want, I want.”

Laurent swallowed.

Well, that was something.

“Is it some kind of psychic connection?” He asked. “Is it a reciprocal loop?”

Damen grinned up at him, apparently amused. “I will answer your questions later,” he said. “When there are less… pressing matters to deal with.” The heel of his hand pressed harder against Laurent’s groin, and Laurent’s hips couldn’t help but buck up against it.

“Tell me what you want,” Damen said.

“Shouldn’t you know?” Laurent’s hips gyrated absentmindedly. “Shouldn’t it be obvious?”

“I would hear you say it.” Damen moved back up over him, his hand falling away from Laurent’s groin to cradle his face. Laurent would have complained of it’s absence, but Damen instead pressed his own hard cock against Laurent’s, and that felt better than Laurent could have dreamed.

Damen pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to the corner of his mouth. Laurent was too caught up in the feeling of Damen’s cock against him, imagining what it would look like,  _ feel _ like, to reciprocate. He could only close his eyes and part his lips around quick and silent breaths.

“I want you to beg for it.”

Laurent’s eyes snapped open. “I beg for nothing.”

Damen’s grin was primal. “We shall see.”

He gave Laurent no quarter when he kissed him again. When before he had favoured delicacy, coaxing Laurent into pleasure with gentle touches, now he was ferocious. He ravaged Laurent’s mouth, taking utter control, demanding it. Laurent could do nothing but give it, and couldn’t deny to himself that he relished it.

As Damen kissed and nipped and licked at Laurent’s lips, his hips started to move. He pressed their clothed cocks together and ground down, a slow and steady rhythm in contrast to his frantic kisses. Laurent could only gasp for breath between each bruising kiss, his hips bucking up of their own accord. Damen smirked down at him, like the infuriating demon he was.

“You like it like this,” Damen said when he broke the kiss. Laurent’s eyes opened and zeroed in on the redness of his mouth. He could hardly imagine how much worse his own would look. “You like to know what you could have, have a taste of it, only to be teased and denied.” A particularly hard thrust down, and Laurent couldn’t help the animal sound that escaped his mouth. “You like the game of it. You enjoy the fantasy.”

“Shut up,” Laurent snapped. “Kiss me.”

The demon didn’t deny him that.

The tempo of this kiss was slower, more languid. Damen timed it now with the movement of his hips; when he pressed down his tongue darted into Laurent’s mouth, back up and he evaded Laurent’s attempts to deepen the kiss.

Laurent’s hands found their way into his hair again. He clutched at the demon desperately, but Laurent’s grip hardly registered to the beast. Certainly, Laurent couldn’t use this vantage to move the demon’s head to his liking, to deepen the kiss as he so desired. Damen might as well have been made from stone.

“Damn you,” Laurent growled. It was too much and not enough, so good but no where near what he needed.

“Tell me what you want.” Damen kissed the curve of his jaw, nosed at the sensitive underside of his chin, down along his neck. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me.”

Damen grinned against his skin. “I will,” he promised. Laurent shivered at the deep rumble of his voice. “Tell me how.”

The only thought that entered Laurent’s mind in response was how much he needed Damen to touch his cock. Enclosed in his tightly laced trousers, it was desperate for attention.

His eyes opened, and found Damen’s lips again. He imagined what it would look like, to see those lips wrapped around him. The fantasy surprised him, he did not usually enjoy such attentions. But now…

Damen grinned at him, and Laurent knew that the demon knew exactly what he was thinking. Still, it made no move to go about this task. It looked down at Laurent from above, knees still bracketing his hips, trapping Laurent on the bed with it’s immense bulk, golden eyes sparkling.

When Laurent gave him no answer, Damen began to move his hips again, grinding pleasure out of a stubborn Laurent who had to grit his jaw furiously to contain the sounds of his pleasure.

Finally, long and arduous moments later, his resolve breaking out of sheer desperation, Laurent said, “I want you to suck my cock.”

Damen’s smile widened. “Yes,” he said. “My prince.”

The obeisance took Laurent by surprise, but Damen was already kissing another burning trail down his body, and so he had no time to question it.

Damen made quick work of unlacing Laurent’s trousers, and tugged them down without further ado. Laurent lifted his hips to allow it, and raised his legs so that Damen might tug the pants off and throw them away.

Laurent was now utterly naked, lying prone on his bed with a sex demon, of all things, feasting its hungry golden eyes over his flesh. He would have thought to be more self conscious, he had never bared himself to another like this before, but somehow, under the demon’s gaze, Laurent felt nothing but wanted. Under Damen’s gaze, Laurent felt like the most desirable thing in the world.

His cock, now free from its confines, stood proud— hard, red and leaking— from it’s nestle of golden curls. Damen’s eyes lingered there for long moments. He licked his reddened lips, and Laurent blushed.

Boldly, Laurent spread his legs, allowing them to fall either side of Damen’s kneeling bulk, baring himself utterly and without reservation. His cock lay vulnerable on his lap, and the more intimate parts of himself were unabashedly shown.

Damen’s hands moved, framing his slender hips with a reverent touch. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Damen told him in a low voice.

Laurent’s blush deepened.

“To be allowed to touch you is an honour I cannot adequately express.”

“I did not ask for your poetic compliments,” Laurent said. “I asked you to suck my cock.”

Damen quirked an eyebrow. “Demanding,” he admonished with a grin. Then he was moving down, slinking backwards through the silken bedsheets, until his head was poised directly over Laurent’s cock. The sight of it seized all breath in Laurent’s chest.

Before he dipped his head, Damen shot him a sly grin, an expression so carnal that Laurent couldn’t help but swallow roughly, and his cock jerked. Then, Damen’s lips were on him, ghosting along the red, hard shaft of his cock. He went all the way down to nuzzle his nose along the fine hair at the base, and pressed open mouthed kisses where his lips could reach. He rubbed his cheek against it almost affectionately, playfully, his skin so warm and soft. One of his clawed hands cupped Laurent’s balls, and he squeezed at the perfect pressure to make Laurent see stars.

He moved back up and his tongue darted out, swiping along the very tip of Laurent’s cock, licking up the pearly liquid that had gathered there. Laurent watched Damen react to the taste; his eyes closed, his breath hitched, his fingers spasmed reflexively, squeezing Laurent’s cock where he held the base. Just a drop of Laurent’s arousal had done that to him.

“Don’t tell me you literally feed on come,” Laurent said, his voice far too breathless.

Damen grinned at him, all teeth. “No,” he said. “Not wholly. But the taste is sublime.” As if to prove his point, his fist squeezed Laurent’s cock tighter and started to stroke up, bringing another bead of liquid to the tip of Laurent’s cock before his tongue darted out again to taste it.

His tongue dug into the slit then, teasing it mercilessly as Laurent arched helplessly against the bed. He silenced himself with a fist in his mouth and pure conviction, because otherwise he would never have lived down the shame of the noises that clamoured to spill from him.

It seemed impossible that such a thing could feel so good.

When Damen took him into his mouth, Laurent whined behind the ball of his fist. When Damen started to bob his head and suck, Laurent’s entire body jerked, fraught with palpable tension. When Damen took a deep breath and relaxed his throat, taking Laurent’s not inconsiderable size all the way down to the base, Laurent’s hand flew down to Damen’s hair, clutching desperately as he gasped, unable to silence the sound in time.

Damen made it his mission to coax every noise from Laurent, the embarrassing whines and the drawn-out moans, even the heavy breaths and shapeless words that took no meaning. He sucked and bobbed his head, slow and steady and measured, almost inhuman in its ceaseless, perfect quality. He hummed around Laurent’s shaft, dug his tongue into the slit and traced it along prominent veins when he sunk back down. His hand continued to play with Laurent’s balls, the other splayed over Laurent’s quivering stomach.

Laurent had never been so aroused as he was encased in the wet, warm suction of Damen’s talented mouth. It was the most exquisite feeling, his entire mind felt numb as pure physical sensation took over. He clutched Damen’s hair like a lifeline, afraid he’d float away if he didn’t. He wondered if he was becoming hysterical.

He was drawn to the edge quickly, quicker than he ever had been before. When he got close his hands clenched painfully in Damen’s hair.

“I’m close,” he gritted out. “Fuck—  _ fuck _ .”

Damen didn’t pull off, in fact he gripped Laurent tighter and raised his head so that just the tip of Laurent’s cock remained in his mouth, resting heavily on his tongue. Laurent looked down at him, suddenly desperate to see, and the sight was almost enough to undo him; a demon bent over him, lips stretched obscenely around his cock, golden eyes smouldering like fire and burning into Laurent’s core.

When the demon hummed, and dug his tongue once more into the slit, Laurent was lost.

His orgasm was earth-shattering. His entire body seized in rapture, curling up and over the demon even as his shaking hands gripped too tightly at Damen’s hair. It was the stuff of poetry and stories, the kind of climax that existed only in fantasy. He’d never experience anything like it before, he would never have thought that pleasure could feel like this.

It was almost terrifying how it consumed him, wrenching him from reality until it felt like he was floating outside of himself. His mind was in a fog, a haze, heavy and light all at once, aimlessly wandering through an endless fugue of bliss. He felt it from his toes to his fingertips. He had forgotten how to breathe.

He must have made some noise, but he had no recollection of it. His throat was hoarse, as though he’d spent hours screaming, and was the first sensation he became aware of when he started to come back to himself.

Damen was still suckling at his cock, gently so as not to send Laurent into oversensitivity. It drew out the last of Laurent’s pleasure, such that the aftershocks still sending tremors throughout his body never seemed to end.

The smug satisfaction on Damen’s face brought a blush to Laurent’s cheeks. When the beast finally rose up and moved back over him, Laurent could see his chin shiny with spit. He draped himself half over Laurent and propped himself up on his side, his wings folded carefully out of the way, their legs tangling together, eyes meeting in the dark. Laurent could have sworn Damen’s eyes had taken on a darker hue, almost like embers burning in a dying fire, redder than they had been before.

“Fuck,” Laurent said.

Damen laughed. “Indeed.”

Laurent had to close his eyes, he was too exhausted to keep them open. He made a soft, thoughtless sound when he felt Damen caress his cheek with a gentle finger, and turned his face into it.

Damen chuckled quietly at his sudden neediness, as he sought intimacy thoughtlessly. It was so unlike what Laurent would have allowed of himself before that it startled him.

“Pleasure becomes you,” Damen mused quietly, gently brushing a strand of hair from Laurent’s face. “I had thought it impossible that you could look any more lovely.”

Laurent huffed at the sweetness of the compliment, but he made no effort to hide his deepening flush. If he had opened his eyes, he would have seen the way it made Damen preen with satisfaction, that his skills had so successfully destroyed any sense of propriety in Laurent’s carefully guarded mind.

Collecting himself, Laurent shifted, reaching down with a mind to get his hand around Damen’s cock. He might not be willing to perform the same act Damen had done for him, but he was more than willing to reciprocate the pleasure he had been given. He wanted to feel the weight of the demon’s cock in his hand, wanted to watch the him spill as Damen had watched him.

Before he could touch it, Damen stopped him.

“Do not trouble yourself,” he said.

Laurent scoffed. “It is hardly a hardship,” he said, his voice raspy and thick with lethargy.

Damen chuckled warmly, and drew the hand he had captured up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to Laurent’s knuckles, meeting his eyes. “I am satisfied enough.”

“I am not.” Laurent tugged the hand that held him, leading it down, past his spent cock to the place between his thighs. “Fuck me.”

He felt Damen’s shiver, saw the flash of gold in his eyes. “I would love nothing more,” Damen said, and pressed a kiss now to Laurent’s cheek. “But not tonight. You must sleep, I fear I exhausted you too quickly.”

“I’m fine,” Laurent insisted, spreading his legs wider. “I want you to fuck me.”

Damen gave him a smile, so beautiful and sincere that Laurent felt it to his core. With gentle fingers, he caressed the place which Laurent had led him to, so reverently it stole Laurent’s breath. But, like the infuriating beast he was, Damen pulled his hand away and cupped Laurent’s face instead. 

“I wish it more than anything in the world, but I cannot risk it, I will not harm you.” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to take so much, I lost myself." 

Laurent scowled petulantly. “Are all demons so Infuriatingly noble?”

Damen chuckled, a thumb stroking along Laurent’s cheek, as though he were endeared. “With your permission, my prince, I would return. Perhaps then I can give you what you desire." Another kiss, now to his temple. "Do I have your permission?"

“Does it matter?”

Damen frowned. “Of course it does. If you asked me to leave and never return I would do so. If that is what you wanted.”

Laurent shifted. “I don’t want that.”

“What do you want?”

Laurent took in a deep and unsteady breath, searching the depths of himself for an answer. He knew what he wanted, he had known from the moment they’d kissed. It wasn’t a lack of knowledge that gave him pause, but that he was afraid of it; of what it meant, of what it said about him.

He wanted the demon, again and again, every night, any way he could have him. He wanted to feel Damen inside him, he wanted to give him the pleasure Damen had given him, if such a thing were possible. He had never wanted something like this before. He couldn’t have this just once.

“You’ll return,” Laurent said. “And you will finish what you started.”

Damen’s hopeful nod warmed a hidden place in Laurent’s heart, and the kiss that Damen pressed to his lips made his stomach flutter.

They kissed for a long time, until sleepiness made Laurent’s head heavy, and his lips could move only sluggishly against Damen’s, but he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to taste Damen forever, wanted to kiss him until he physically couldn’t any longer.

It was Damen who eventually pulled away. Laurent made a small, irritated noise and tried to chase after him, but Damen only turned his head and pressed kisses to Laurent’s neck instead.

“You must sleep, restore your strength,” Damen said. “I must go.”

He extracted himself from Laurent’s arms gently, shaking his wings out and stretching. Damen kissed him once more, and then he turned to go.

Laurent watched him as he went, admiring a rear view of his musculature rather shamelessly, though unfortunately mostly obscured by his half spread wings. Damen caught him looking when he turned to climb up onto the window sill, and winked at him.

Like a lovestruck boy, Laurent grinned.

Damen left with a salute. He pushed himself out of the window, dropping into the darkness of the night, and for a horrible minute Laurent thought he might hear the thud of a body landing on the pavement far below, but instead all he heard was a loud gushing of wind, like the flapping of wings, before silence.

Laurent had no dreams that night.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @[exyking](http://exyking.tumblr.com)


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